


The King's View

by PaisleyWraith



Series: Dawn AU [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:10:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14202786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyWraith/pseuds/PaisleyWraith
Summary: Kyle's outlook on bringing in a human girl for a marriage partner was more resigned than anything. After all, he'd do just about anything at this point to keep their worlds from collapsing any further.





	The King's View

Kyle held his breath, letting himself sink to the bottom of the baths. Long enough to stretch out and still touch nothing, it was more a battle to keep from floating than to rise: Your body was made to try and survive any situation given to it. He breathed out, slowly, bubbles rising to the foamy top of the hot bath, disrupting the slow water.

_Fire, death. Those images were burned into his mind until the end of time. The screams of people he loved, people who raised him, echoing through the halls. He'd make them pay. Let them remember the smell of burning bodies and fresh blood. The despair of having your home, your solitude, demolished and made unsafe. An eye for an eye. And he'd rip out the heart just for spite._

_Let them watch their sons and daughters burn. Let them scream and cry with no one alive to hear. Let them feel every single moment he felt, and let them feel more. Let them die on the inside, forced to live only because you were one of the last ones left alive._

_I'll be a fair King. Not a merciful one._

Kyle surfaced, shaking out his curls like one of Stan's wolf pups on a rainy afternoon. He leaned against the smoothed stone back, citrus oils making to easier to remember to breathe deeply. Slow. Think.

“I have to do it,” He told the empty bathroom, water dripping off the walls. He pressed his hands against his head, slicking back his curls. “I have to. I don’t have a choice.”

It was over. The war and his revenge.

This might be the only way. The only chance he had left...He'd burned all his other bridges years ago. They would have to take precautions, naturally, but this was his decision and he wasn’t backing out.

Kyle dressed slowly, not bothering to wait for his thick curls to dry, merely ruffling them slightly and dressing in garb he felt most comfortable in. It was destined to be a miserable day. Might as well be cozy for it. Kyle left the room, inclining his head to the guard stationed outside his hall without making eye contact.

He was greeted by just about everyone who passed him in the halls, told good morning, but by the time he made his way to the War Room people had stopped talking to him altogether, giving him worried or puzzled looks as their King mumbled in reply. Or perhaps they just noticed the darker-than usual aura that had surrounded their King the past few days, and realized it might be wiser to hold their tongues.

Wendy and Stan were already in the War Room, the half-Elf maiden sitting on the elegant wooden table and dangling her legs off of it. Neither of them were speaking, both looking up when Kyle walked through the doors.

The room was circular, a beautiful mosaic in all sorts of greens spread over the floor, interlaid with glass, porcelain, and jewels. Kyle had it renovated about a year ago, as it was falling to pieces, but was beginning to think that having such a piece of artwork in a room few people would or even wanted to see the inside of might have been extravagant.

Maps hung over the walls, diagrams of opposing castles, images drawn of allied settlements, done by an Elf from the Treetops sitting down with a Human friend and a charcoal pen. Lists, letters, scrolls, all sort of documents kept on enemy lands were kept here, not in the library. Kyle walked over to the table and stood, looking at his two friends.

Wendy closed her eyes. She already knew.

“Would you mind writing back, Wendy?” Kyle said softly, mostly for Stan’s benefit. The boy inhaled sharply. “Tell him I’ll marry the woman from his court.”

“Kyle, what?” Stan got up from his chair, trying to catch Wendy’s gaze. “Already? You’re giving in already?”

“It’s the easiest way, Stan,” Kyle said tiredly, leaning against the table himself. “He wants a show of goodwill-”

“You already said you wouldn’t claim the Staff!” Stan argued frantically, “You reached out first. You shouldn’t have to prove anything! He’s the one who needs to prove his own goodwill-”

“He’s a newer ruler,” Kyle pointed out. “He hasn’t spilled any blood, at least from what we can tell. Whatever we suspect. In everyone else’s eyes, I have more to prove. It won't look right otherwise”

Stan looked at Wendy, who was busy shuffling papers to keep her fingers busy. He looked back at Kyle, incredulous.

“Who are you?” He asked, and Kyle’s gaze flicked away. It focused on a diagram of the Keep, looking over the drawn walls his ancestors had lived inside. “This isn’t like you! This isn't who you are! Get angry! Demand something! Why are you just rolling over like a kicked dog?”

Kyle’s fingernails dug into his palms with how tightly his fists were clenched. “Will you, Wendy?”

“I’ll have it written up tonight,” She said, clipped. She didn’t agree.

“Wendy-” Stan protested, but the second-in-command shook her head and silenced him.

Stan grit his teeth. He looked Kyle in the eyes, brown eyes sparking.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” He told him, and shouldered past him to leave the room entirely. Kyle didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

He was an idiot, sure. But this was his chance to at least correct some things he’d fucked up. And if it wasn't like himself, that might just be a statement. He hadn't felt like himself in a long time. Wendy said nothing at first, then set the papers down and straightened.

“He probably is doing this so he can have an heir, you know,” Wendy said bluntly, cool and firm. “If this woman is from his court, she’s either related to him or in his inner circle. He wants an in.”

Kyle’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly. “I said I’d marry her. She’ll have a decent life, just a sexless, loveless marriage. She'll deal with it.” His cool gaze settled on Wendy, cheeks burning. “I’m not jeopardizing Ike’s throne. I’m not having a kid.”

There was a time, long ago, that he would have liked the idea. Far before being a King, of course. And Ike.

Wendy pressed her lips together. “She might be-”

“I expect her to be a spy,” Kyle said, moving to sit in one of the many chairs. “At the very, very least, her perspective is all from the Keep. We’ll have hell of a time keeping people civil to her, especially if she’s as racist as the leader of the Keep.”

Wendy’s brows twitched, reaching again for the letter Cartman had sent. So even Wendy hadn’t noticed that. It wasn’t surprising, her ancestry was human as well as Brethilim, Tree-People, the Sarnedhel terms might not be something she was acquainted with.

“Years ago,” Kyle said quietly, “Grand Wizards were a brand loyal to the crown who hunted down orcs as well as the Sarnedhel, the ground-dwelling Elves. I don’t know if he’s taken that title because it sounds more impressive or because he actually knows what’s behind it.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” Wendy sounded perturbed, not used to not knowing something. The thought actually made Kyle smile briefly for the first time.

“I’m glad you hadn’t,” He said, calmly. “I’ve been trying to kill those terms for years.”

Wendy drew her legs up onto the table, flitting through the note again. “So she’s a Lady. Kenny McCormick. We know nothing else about her, and you’re set to marry her.”

“I am,” Kyle’s stomach still flipped. He sat straight, resolute. “You won’t change my mind.”

Wendy nodded, slowly. She knew, and unlike Stan, she understood what was at stake.

This was why Kyle appointed her his second. Stan was too much of a romantic boy, not just in a sense of love, but life. Kyle would never have a life away from his mistakes. He'd never have a marriage that wouldn't be for political reasons. He'd never really be that same person again. Not really. Not if their world was supposed to live.

“And you trust yourself not to have sex with this girl and get her knocked up?” Kyle cringed so hard he knocked an elbow against the table, realizing too late that Wendy was trying to jab him on purpose.

“Wendy, how many people have I courted?” He hissed, knowing by the press of her lips that she knew the amount of people that ever held Kyle's interest enough to get that far was a big, fat zero. “I guess it’s lucky for the Wizard that I'm some kind of weirdo.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you understand what you’re agreeing to,” Wendy said, all seriousness. “Kyle, you’re going to be responsible for her. You have to keep everyone from treating her poorly. You have to make sure she’s happy. She’s trading the outside world for the Caverns. If she ends up just being some stupid friend of Cartman’s, this is someone innocent we’re talking about.”

Kyle hadn’t considered that. He tilted his head, mulling it over. “I doubt it.”

“And if she is?” Wendy raised her eyebrows. “What will you do if she’s not a spy, just a stupid, innocent girl who agreed to marry someone she doesn’t know in order to bridge the gap between us and _her_ people?”

Kyle’s brows furrowed. Imagining a stupid human girl who just wanted to help was…it soothed his irritation, a little.

“I’d make sure she wasn’t bullied,” He relented, “That she wasn’t afraid. And that she was happy. But what makes you think this isn’t going to be someone just like him?”

“I don’t, honestly,” Wendy said coolly, “But it can be a possibility. Your best bet would be to pretend you expect some stupid, innocent girl-”

“It might not even be a girl,” He grumbled, “It could be any age, he knows I’m in my twenties.”

Wendy continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “-And treat her kindly as you can. If she is a spy, we’ll watch her closely. Keep her from stabbing you in the middle of the night.”

“Appreciated,” Kyle muttered.

Wendy slid off the table, picking up her papers with a quiet sort of determination. 

“I’ll have everything planned,” She said quietly. “I’ll write to him, keep in correspondence." 

"Thank you, Wendy," Kyle said quietly, staring back at the floor.

Wendy paused, as if she was debating something, but in the end she merely straightened. "I’ll be around, Kyle.”

And with that, she left the room as well.

Kyle was left alone. He rested his arms on the table, resting his chin on them. He looked up at the Keep, the castle his own family had long ago helped build. Where he slaughtered people in their homes and left their dying bodies on the street. Men, women, children. Anyone who happened to be in the army’s way was to be slaughtered.

Such was war.

Kyle closed his eyes. He needed to go. Get back to work. He was a King, after all, and once people realized he was no longer in a meeting they’d come to find him.

Yet he took a minute, just let himself feel. He was angry, enraged at the audacity of the human play-pretend-king to demand Kyle wed someone of his own choice. Either to elevate a friend or insert a spy. His soul still grieved, however, anger buried under tons and tons of guilt and grief. His life wasn’t much at the moment, anyhow. He was barely holding it together as it were.

Kyle heard a knock at the door. He took a breath.

“Yes, one moment,” He said, and stood. He took one more look at the Keep. Kenny McCormick. He’d learn soon enough what her agenda was

\--

She was arriving sometime today.

Those thoughts were always in his mind, lurking as he went about his normal duties. At last, he decided to go along with the guards to switch with the Treetop Guards already on patrol, wanting some air. He okayed it with Wendy and walked along with them, Clyde chattering over the others as he recounted a birth in the stables he’d encountered as soon as he returned home last night. A clumsy, long-legged foal was at least a nice thing to think about instead of the consequence of his decisions, and Kyle let himself mindlessly listen as they walked along the pathway.

Sometime today. Her room was ready, Kyle lit her room and, reluctantly, had a banner ordered from the Keep to hang on the wall. Something familiar. Comforting. He wasn’t even sure how Stan got his hands on it and honestly, was afraid to ask.

Stan. Tweek. He sent both of them to fetch the girl, arranging it so the party would have to drive past Dunedhelbair, past the ruins of his old home.

This had been purposeful. He didn't want such a small party to travel far, for one, and secondly, just in case the girl was a spy...

_“Let them see what their own people have done,” He had said, in a flare of anger. “No one travels here anymore. Let them look.”_

Around him, the topic turned to the hunt itself, teasing beginning as apparently someone had found themselves nearly nose-to-nose with a deer, and Kyle wasn’t really listening anymore.

One thing, he had to reign in his own temper. He himself had been nervous, moving from the outdoors into the underground. It was airy, light, but still foreign. He needed to remember that. He'd be able to decide on how he was going to treat this girl once she arrived. He was tired of not knowing anything.

Suddenly, the entire group paused, and Kyle ran into the Elf in front of him.

For fuck’s sake. He wasn’t even paying attention, anymore.

“What now?” Kyle shoved past the group, accidentally elbowing Clyde in the side, wondering why they stopped stupidly on the stairs. He quickly found out.

Stan was standing on the stairs, greeting him awkwardly, eyes shifting between him and the girl beside him. Kyle nearly took a step back before he remembered he was standing on the stairway.

He did not expect her to be pretty. She was built slim but lean, smooth lines and angles and a sharp look to her jaw. She wasn’t particularly clean, dirt was caked under her fingernails and worn into her skin, but there was something very lovely in her frame. Blond, tall, somewhere around his own height, Kyle couldn’t quite understand what he was looking at.

She was staring back at him, and her eyes were blue. All shades, sky-bright and sharp and curious and it caught him by surprise. Fuck shit all, that motherfucking wizard. Kyle took a step up and inclined his head, politely welcoming his unwanted bride to the Caverns.

“Lady McCormick,” He looked her over again, taking in the plain clothes, tired expression. She didn’t look much like a spy. She looked wary, watching him carefully. “Welcome home.”

She seemed frozen, unable to speak. She was shaking.

Kyle was surprised to find he felt a fleeting shot of pity for the girl.

“My Lord,” Stan spoke up, breaking the awkward silence before it became unbearable. “I was taking Princess Kenny to her quarters.”

Ah. Good old Stan, he’d already noticed something odd. His pity evaporated immediately.

“Princess?” The look Stan gave him said he was being a bit too obvious in his condescending attitude. What? Like he was supposed to be fine with her tossing titles around? She was a Lady, as far as he knew. She held no claim to any crown.

Certainly not his.

“Go on, I’ll be back tonight,” He told Stan, who hopefully would forgive him for that. He didn’t believe Stan’s prediction that this interloper would be innocent. Certainly not if they were pretty. Right? What young, lovely human girl wanted to be married off to the leader of the enemy race?

Kyle slipped past them both, without looking back. The guards waited until the two had walked past them before following him, the laughter and chatter turned to dead silence. Even Clyde was silent, though considering he just got back from the hunting trip, he might not be savvy to what was happening. He’d leave that to the other guards to catch him up on. He wasn’t going to explain.

He stormed outdoors, robes flying about his ankles. No one behind him dared to say a word.

How the fuck dare Cartman send him someone young and pretty. He heard what Cartman looked like, he had been imagining an unkind, jeering person six times his size and vicious. Not quiet, afraid, dirty.

Stan came flying back out of the Caverns, panting as he fell into pace next to Kyle.

“Okay, so it’s a weird situation, but she seems sweet,” He was gasping, gulping down air between words. “She’s got to be your age, Kyle. She’s blunt but flirty and seems terrified of you. This might not be so bad. At least she's cute?”

Kyle didn’t appreciate the teasing. His expression must have told Stan so, because he caught his breath again and continued chatting, the group behind them falling back to talk in softer tones.

“So she’s curious, I don’t think she knows much about this place in the least,” Stan recalled, brows furrowed. “She didn’t even know what Elves looked like, Kyle.”

“Unless she’s pretending,” Kyle felt slightly alarmed. Didn’t know what Elves- they were such a pivotal part of the world, so intertwined with human history, how could you not know anything about them?

“I don’t get that vibe so far,” Stan murmured. “Watch this girl. Wendy has an eye on her right now. I want to hear what she thinks.”

Wendy had volunteered to pretend to be a maid, refusing both that title and lady-in-waiting, but was eager to see what this girl had up her sleeves. She'd be a match for Miss McCormick, whoever she truly was.

Kyle could only hold his breath and wait.

\--

Wendy sent word via Stan while she was fussing with Kenny in her room. The boy plopped down next to Kyle at the main table, leaning over with all the eagerness of a schoolchild with a secret.

“Wendy thinks she’s likely just a stupid, innocent girl,” Stan nearly direct quoted. Kyle exhaled, his chest expanding so he could breathe again. "Says she seems sweet. Really stressed, nervous."

“I can’t believe I’m actually relieved,” He said flatly. “Why would she agree to marry me, then, if there’s nothing to gain?”

“Maybe the up in status?” Stan guessed, running a hand through his hair.

“Fucking joke’s on her,” He grumbled. “She gets shit all from this.”

Stan’s lips quirked in a smile, tilting his head to the side. Kyle raised an eyebrow. 

“Nothing,” He said. “Nevermind.”

Kyle took a sip of his drink, setting down the glass with care. Okay. Likely working with a different scenario. Scared girl he could work with. Scared, fragile beings wouldn’t be trouble.

Wendy flew in and picked up her skirts to _leap_ onto the platform, earning a slow clap from Tweek and a bewildered look from Stan and Kyle.

She sat down, leaving a seat next to Kyle open. He gave her a long-suffering look.

“You agreed to this,” She said, not even winded. “And stand when she enters. It’s protocol.”

“Wendy,” Kyle began,

Wendy shushed him.

He rose when the others did, looking for her. He spotted her glancing over her shoulder, puzzlement pouring off of her. Too awkwardly, she walked towards the table with obvious nerves.

She was afraid.

Kyle watched her, analyzing. She wasn’t just pretty. Scrubbed clean, hair styled, wearing a cream gown fading to soft grey, the girl was beautiful. Nervousness widened her blue eyes, made her chew at her lips, and he wasn’t…

He wasn’t really attracted to people this quick, not like the ogling Elf-maidens in their teenage years, and yet…

There was something in her that fascinated him. Like if he looked hard enough, he could see it. She watched him as well, expression turning curious. She was open, eyes flitting over his face, meeting his eyes before Stan grabbed Kyle’s robes and pulled him back down to his seat.

He continued to glance at her, however. She had a faint sprinkling of freckles, a tired look to her face. She was painfully thin, which startled him. Was she not fed properly? Even his suspicious mind eased to think this might just be a regular person.

But how did you deal with a regular person?

Kyle chewed his lip, thinking.

“Do you like your room?” He asked her, wanting to hear her speak. She hadn’t said a word yet to him. Not a one.

She looked surprised, but replied immediately. “It’s very nice.” How reassuring. She seemed to realize the nervous answer was a bit cold, and warmed immediately. She smiled, blue eyes sparkling. “I love it. It was nice to see something familiar.”

The sweet tone unnerved him, he had the distinct suspicion she was flirting. He colored, but remained stubbornly determined.

“Good,” He said calmly, and he saw Wendy roll her eyes behind Kenny. He couldn’t even kick her from this angle.

He finally looked away as the food began to arrive.

“I’m not sure what food you’re used to,” Kyle told her, “Back at the Keep. But ours doesn’t have much variance from human cuisine.”

Stan came to his rescue in the conversation “True,” He smiled at Kenny, friendly and inviting, “I’ve been to some nearby human villages and there’s not too much difference.” He grinned at Tweek, who was ignoring everyone as usual when someone new showed up. “Barbarians, though, that’s an interesting diet.”

Tweek twitched, clearly uncomfortable, and looked about ready to stab Stan with a fork. He hated strangers. Kyle took the opportunity to kick Stan. Leave the stabby Barbarian alone.

Kyle found his stomach turning quickly. Kenny ate politely, but quick. With the urgency of someone starving.

Who was this person? He traded a quick glance with Wendy, who looked quietly back at him. She was too thin, dirty, nervous, hungry.

Oh God, Cartman had given him a victim.

He knew the Keep was starving. Kenny seemed to be as well. It made him feel ill. Why was she here, then? Promise of a better life came back into his mind, but for a different reason.

Alright. If this was an innocent, he’d befriend them. No more than that, but this was still more than he first expected.

Kenny seemed to relax the more dinner went on, whispering with Wendy once in a while but mostly remaining quiet. Kyle tapped his fingers against the table. He’d like to talk to her alone, come to think of it.

“Lady McCormick?” He said, stumbling a little on the words. The girl glanced at him from over her berry parfait, curiosity apparent in every inch of her pretty face. “Will you go on a walk with me after dinner?”

He swore her eyes narrowed slightly at first, but she set her spoon down and smiled.

“Certainly,” Her voice was light, cheerful. “I’m ready now.”

Well fuck, he didn’t have time to think. Kyle panicked, standing immediately and stalking off, hearing Stan sighing behind him.

Oh god, he needed to think. What was he going to say? If she was afraid, he wanted to give her some reassurance.

“Your Highness?” The blonde maiden jogged up behind him, and he realized he was more or less running away from her.

He stopped altogether, letting her catch up, hands in his robes and standing straight-backed. Her veil floated around her as she caught up, walking at a much more leisurely pace.

“Lady.” Kyle politely answered. Okay. Easy. He hated everyday small talk, but unfortunately as a King is was nearly one of his needed duties. “I’m glad your trip went well.”

The girl straightened at that, something different in her tone. “Did you expect it not to?”

“No,” Don’t snap. Don’t. Snap. Not her fault. Kyle easily shrugged. “We don’t have many opponents anymore, you weren’t in any danger.”

That was a bad choice of wording. Kyle watched the fragile flower bristle into thorns. “No one opposes Elves anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.” She was not making this easy. And was this her trying to piss him off? Why the fuck would she do that if-

Kyle needed to get himself under control. Anger was a familiar emotion, but one he hadn’t felt in a while. “I said you weren’t in danger.”

She was watching him warily, like he expected him to blow up. That really didn’t sit well with him and he tried again. Start over.

If this was an innocent girl, he had no ill will towards her.

“Listen to me,” He said firmly, making sure she was paying attention. Get to the point right away, nothing weird between them. “Our races and Kingdoms didn’t get along, let’s not pretend we both don’t know that.” The girl actually looked at him at that, interested. Her blue eyes were focused on his with intent. Kyle hated himself for finding her this intriguing. “You _are_ going to encounter people who won’t like you simply because you’re human.”

“And what’s your opinion?” The girl asked immediately, which both impressed and annoyed him. 

He stopped in front of her door, taking a breath. Honesty. If you are telling the truth, then:

“I don’t have a thing against you,” Kyle told her honestly. “Any problem I have are with people you aren’t even close to.” Anymore. Fuck the Wizard and his sneering letters full of promises and jeers. “That should be true for everyone. If anyone gives you any grief, talk to me, and I will stop it.”

He didn’t want any racism around here. On any front.

Kenny’s voice sweetened to unbearable levels. “How so very nice of you,” She said, making Kyle grit his teeth. Ugh.

“Goodnight, My Lady,” Time to exit. This wasn’t getting anywhere. He could be so sure of one thing, just to see a different side of her the next. “I’m sure you’re tired after your trip.”

“Oh, physically and emotionally exhausting for sure,” Kenny agreed, already trying to disappear herself. “Goodnight, King Kyle.”

No one put his Common name with his title before, that sounded odd. Kyle wrinkled his nose. This whole conversation was annoying him. There wasn’t any respect here. He was ready to slam his door, but made himself take a breath. Regal. Kingly.

“Kenny,” He said, and the girl stopped to turn and look at him. “Let me know if you need anything.”

And then he closed his door.

Kyle went to flop down on the bed, rubbing his eyes.

If she was truly just a dumb pawn, that wasn’t entirely her fault. She was bound to be somewhat racist, even if she had so far treated everyone kindly.

She was just some dumb, delicate flower with no respect. That could be remedied, she’d learn more about the caverns and people and if she was genuinely as polite and curious as Stan and Wendy pointed out, she might come around. She better.

He closed his eyes.

He was getting married to that girl.

She was beautiful, sure, but distant and too saccharine sweet. She spoke a bit condescendingly to him just now and that worried him. He wasn’t quite so sure anymore that a friendship would even be manageable.

No, no, no. Don’t think like that. You don’t even need friendship, just a civil agreement. And she’d stay out of his room, his bed, and hopefully his life altogether. If she was some kind of starved victim, he could pity her even if she did turn out to be a racist bitch. Things could continue, just better. Kyle could finally make some amends. Get his trade in with the Keep, regain contact with the artisans and get the place what seemed to be much-needed food. Something had to be done. If this was what he had to pay, he would.

He always had his backup plan, after all.

Kyle opened his eyes and quietly took away his own lights. He let hers burn for a few hours more, giving the girl some light in her new room in Elvish Caverns, hopefully soothing her to sleep.


End file.
